by Lex Martin
Courtney: That’s because he so obviously wants you. I can even tell you that from all the way over here!
Viola: No, he’s hell-bent on ruining my life.
Courtney: Well, the offer still stands. Could book a flight and be here by tomorrow!
I wish.
Viola: I can’t. I already promised Drew and Mia I’d go to Lake Tahoe this weekend.
Courtney: Did you really have to mention that bitch’s name?
I chuckle, anticipating that exact reaction. She’s had a crush on Drew since the first day she met him, four years ago. Drew’s a good-looking guy, a police officer, but he’s clueless to how he affects girls. Unlike Travis, he doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the women population.
Viola: LOL, sorry.
Courtney: I want to hear about all the juicy details when I get back!
Viola: Trust me, there’ll be no details to give.
Courtney: I highly doubt that. Mwah!
I sigh and roll my eyes. Courtney always knows how to brighten my mood, even if it’s at her expense. I click back to my messages and read over Jason’s.
Jason: Any chance you’d be interested in joining me for a Battle of the Bands Wednesday night? I promise it’s not as lame as it sounds.
I’m a little surprised he’s asking me out again. I figured Travis would’ve scared him off, and if it wasn’t for the way he looked at me as if he wanted to eat me for dessert, I’d be giddy as fuck for his invitation. But Jason doesn’t make me feel anything. There’s no spark. However, it’d get me out of the house for the night and give me more ammunition against Travis.
Since I’m not in the business of using guys and leading them on, I tell Jason the truth. If I’m going to get back at Travis for his stunt with my vibrator, it might as well be testing his jealousy limitations.
Viola: I’d love to go! But I have to tell you it’d just be as friends. You cool with that?
Even if he does agree to just be friends, Travis doesn’t have to know that. In fact, I think I’ll even make a trip to the mall beforehand for some essentials.
Jason: Honestly, I’m glad you mentioned that. I was thinking the same thing, so I’m glad we’re on the same page. You’re a cool chick to hang with, and if I can avoid Drew’s foot in my ass, I’d rather take that route.
I let out a nervous giggle and send him back a smiley emoji.
Jason: Pick you up around seven.
Viola: Sounds good! See you then.
“Fucking piece of shit!” Travis’s deep roar makes me jump, and for a split second, I forgot he was here. “The hell you work this thing?” His fingers are furiously stabbing the keyboard.
“You mean it’s not doing exactly what you say even after you sweet-talked it?”
“Not now, Viola.” His shoulders tense.
“Ooh, Viola. You must mean business,” I mock, ignoring his harsh tone.
He glares at me, not at all impressed with my backtalk. I turn back to my Kindle, ready to ignore him once again. But then he surprises me and grabs my attention in a much softer, helpless tone.
“Any chance you know the common restrictive regulations for advertising in the European market?
“I might,” I say, not even looking up from my book.
“Do you think you could maybe help me out before I smash my fist through the screen?”
“You mean to tell me you actually don’t know something?” I ask, smug. “But I thought you knew everything?”
“Do you always have to be a sarcastic know-it-all?”
“Well, I don’t have to be, but I think it adds to my appeal.” I smile, gloating.
I finally look over at him and see a disheveled Travis. He looks more tired than usual, maybe even mentally exhausted. Hell, it’s only day three of this two-week roommate arrangement, and I’m mentally exhausted from whatever it is we have going on. The back and forth, the tormenting one another, the emotional exhaustion that comes with hating him one moment and wanting his hands all over me the next.
I clear my throat to distract myself from those thoughts. Showing any signs of vulnerability around him would only make things worse. He’d use it in any way possible to get back at me.
“All right, smartass. So, can you help me or not?” His tone isn’t as harsh, but I can see he’s frustrated.
Hmm…a little frustration and groveling might be good for him. “Well, I could…” I linger, not quite ready to give in.
He exhales roughly, tightening his grip on the armrest. “Will you?” His features tighten and his jaw locks, frustration written all over him. I almost feel bad for messing with him. Almost.
“What’s in it for me?” I ask, using the opportunity to gain some of the household power back.
“Um…how about a roof over your head? A fridge filled with food? A bed to sleep in?”
“You mean, half of those things. Drew pays the rent, too. And face it, you’d still be paying for those things even if I wasn’t here, so your argument is invalid.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. What do you want?”
I turn slightly, facing him. I need him to know I’m serious. “I help you with whatever project you’re working on, and you have to abide by all the house rules. No exceptions.”
His head falls back against the chair cushion, and I can tell he’s rolling his eyes at me. “So, you basically want me to be a monk in my own damn house?”
“Just while I’m here…” I correct. “The moment I leave, throw a naked kegger for all I care.”
He snorts, his face finally loosening up a bit. “All right. If that’s what it’s going to take, then fine.”
“Wow, look at us!” I beam, plastering on a wide, fake smile. “Compromising like an old divorced couple.” Or at least making some progress at making this work the rest of the time I’m here.
However, I have a feeling this weekend isn’t going to be so accommodating.
Chapter 14
Travis
Viola may be a smartass, but she knows her stuff. I study her mouth as she talks about the articles of the European Community Treaty in detail. She notices me staring and stops.
“What?” Her eyes narrow, and I flash a little smirk and shake my head.
“The main point of this is not to have misleading advertising. It’s not like the American market where we can basically insinuate someone’s boobs will grow or they’ll lose a hundred pounds in a week. Or you’ll get chicks if you drink Bud Light. It’s stricter. We do have the Federal Trade Commission, but the European treaty is that on steroids,” she continues and then stops abruptly. “Are you even listening?”
“You have no idea.” My lips tilt up, hanging on her every word.
She fidgets under my gaze. “Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. Your rules. Aren’t they a bit ridiculous?”
Her mouth falls open then shuts. “No.”
“What are the rules anyway?” I ask, closing my laptop. “You might want to clarify since I’m supposed to be following them for the next week and a half.”
Viola stands and snatches her Kindle from the couch.
“Wear clothes. No skanks in the house. And I don’t want you to say anything that’s even remotely sexual. Basically, you stay away from me, and I stay away from you.”
“Other than when I need your help, right?” I arch an eyebrow and watch as her eyes stroll down my body.
“Did you just check me out?” I flash a knowing grin. “That was a major eye-fuck.”
She gasps. “Rules!”
“Don’t make this a double standard. If I have to follow the rules, so do you, princess.” I’m amused by the way her face contorts when I’m right.
“I can see we’re done here. Good luck with that. Looks like you’re going to need it.”
“You too,” I mumbled back, eyeing her tight little body, and by the way she reacts to me, she knows exactly what I was talking about.
I reopen the laptop and start researching the parent co
mpanies and their past marketing efforts. If we want to stand out in the crowd, I can’t come up with some mediocre plan. I’m actually pissed that I didn’t pay more attention in class when it came to foreign trade and policies. While I wanted and wished for a project such as this, now it feels more like a burden instead of a blessing. But Viola may be my secret weapon.
After making detailed notes, I feel pretty good about what I’ve compiled so far. I stuff my laptop in its case and catch a glimpse of the pink vibrator sitting on the couch, right where I left it. I pack my things and head down the hallway with it tight in my hand. The images that fill my mind are dirty, but fuck, I love them.
I tap the door with the head of it and wait. After a few seconds, Viola opens the door, and I’m pointing the pink cock right in her face.
“Forget something?” I ask, with a smirk.
“Rules.” She glares. “Stop. Breaking. Them.” As she rips the vibrator from my hand, I notice her voice isn’t as confident as it usually is.
Right now, I want to break her.
“Don’t you know, some rules are meant to be broken?” My voice is silky smooth, and my eyes roam down her body. I give a little nod toward her nipples that are begging to be sucked and flicked, and she slams the door in my face.
On the other side of the door, she screams, “Can you be any more cliché?”
I can’t hold back the smile as I walk into my room and climb into bed.
I’m getting to her. Eventually, she’ll crack. Eventually, I’ll find her limit.
I close my eyes, and it takes me no time before I fall asleep and even less time before my alarm is buzzing.
After my normal workout routine, I drive home and stand in the living room brushing my teeth with nothing on but dress pants. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, and I feel more energized than I have in a while, though an annoyed buzz swarms inside my body. I’m actually dreading going to work today. It’s the first time that’s happened since I started.
Before walking back into my room, I stop in front of Drew’s door. I stand there for almost a minute before I open it and peek in. Viola is sleeping like the dead with her body sideways across the bed. I almost feel bad for staring at her while she sleeps, but it seems the only time I can without listening to her bitch.
“Travis,” she says in a light whisper, and for a moment, I think I’m busted. But the glow of the lava lamp Drew refuses to get rid of gives her away. She’s asleep, whispering my name. If I had my phone on me, I’d record it for evidence later, but I don’t. Instead, I finish getting dressed and head out the door. Before I make it to work, Alyssa is already blowing up my phone. Is it still considered sexual harassment when it’s the CEO’s daughter?
Fucking hell.
Alyssa: Can we meet this morning? ;) I can’t wait to see you.
Alyssa: I miss you.
Alyssa: We make a great team.
Dammit. I know what that wink means. The meeting isn’t to discuss our project, but rather for me to be her project. I sit in the car and listen to the mean growl of the engine as I decide what to text her. I’m walking a thin line that is becoming blurrier with each step forward.
Travis: Yeah, what time? I have a meeting with Blake at 10.
I let out a huff.
Alyssa: The earlier the better. I’m feeling the urge. If you know what I mean.
I don’t like this.
Travis: Your office or mine?
Alyssa: Mine. And I’ll be on my knees waiting for you when you enter.
And now my suspicions have been confirmed. Alyssa wants me to put in, but I don’t want to put out. Now to figure out how to break the news to her without fucking myself and this project in the process.
My annoyance must have been written all over my face because the administrative assistant actually asked me what was wrong when I walked by her this morning. I wasn’t in my usual flirty mood and didn’t say good morning to anyone because I know exactly how the day is going to play out.
I walk into my office, closing the door behind me, and stare at a blank computer screen with a bright green sticky note from The Office of Blake James. He wants to meet now instead of later. Fucking wonderful.
I don’t bother turning on my computer before I make my way down the hallway toward Blake’s office. His door is open, and he’s busy pecking away at the computer with his pointer fingers. The dude needs to get with the times, but instead of making a slight-handed joke, I just stand in the doorway.
“Sit,” he demands but continues to type.
I don’t say a word. Instead, I sit in the big bulky office chair that’s most likely been in this building since the 1970s, and I wait for him to finish. My patience for the day is quickly depleting with every second that passes.
“We need to discuss your new project,” he says with a tinge of jealousy in his voice.
“Okay.” I want to tell him to take the project for himself because I know that’s what he wants. While he’s my boss, and I respect him because of his title, he’s one of those supervisors who wants attention. He wants to be heard in a room full of people and tries to take credit for tasks he didn’t do. But people see through the façade, and they talk, and what they are saying isn’t good. The corporate world is a fish tank full of sharks, and if you don’t watch your back, it’s easy to get eaten alive. I’ve been crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s since the first day I stepped foot into his office.
“I don’t agree with you being assigned to it. I think you’re a hard worker and have a lot to offer the company, but…”
Usually when people say “but,” it’s to negate every positive thing that was said before. He continues, but I stop listening. The last thing I need is to be double pounded today. Alyssa in the front and Blake in the back, it’s miserable.
“…you’ll still be responsible for your current assignments. Sloan agreed that it was okay, and that you could handle the marketing research along with your day-to-day tasks. After I spoke to him, of course.”
At this point, I’m fuming. My workload has doubled, but my pay hasn’t. I grit my teeth, and it takes everything I have to speak calmly. “Thank you for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
I’m fucking pissed but try to push it back.
“I knew you’d be able to handle it,” Blake says, but I know his endgame. It’s to smear my reputation and change the way the executives perceive me. He has always pushed me and has set me up for failure many times, but even with all the bitch work, I’ve proved him wrong every time. Since my first week at Crawford Marketing, he’s had it out for me. I know my confidence can be intimidating, but he can fuck off.
The conversation is clearly over, so I stand and give him a shit-eating grin before I walk back to my office. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me spin out of control.
The best motivation is when someone says or insinuates that I can’t do something. I might be a fucking zombie by the end of the next quarter, but at least I’ll have kicked major ass and shown Sloan that I’m a hard worker in the process.
Nine o'clock rolls around, and I’m tempted to cancel the meeting with Alyssa, but the truth is, I need to know what she’s completed and what she hasn’t. So after I send a few emails and try to rush through my normal duties, I stand, grab my laptop, and stroll to her office. She’s the only one on our floor with a corner office that has windows that line an entire wall. There’s a small conference table and a couch. Why she needs all of the space, no one knows, and considering her title, she sure hasn’t earned any of it. The managers on the floor secretly hate her, but they put up with it because of who she is and the full helping of tits she provides each day. I’m surprised people don’t offer her twenty-dollar bills when she leaves the building for the show she puts on during business hours.
I walk in and close the door, and she’s sitting at her desk with her silk shirt unbuttoned, displaying her full breasts. I guess she came to work braless today. I’m sure all the women will be talking ab
out her nipples in the break room over coffee. I almost laugh thinking about it.
“Hey, baby,” she purrs as I take a few steps forward. She’s a tigress on the prowl.
“Hey,” I say, but she can tell by my tone that I’m not having it today.
She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out, and begins talking like a baby. “Oh no. Someone’s not happy. What can I do to help you?”
I grab her hand, knowing she’s waiting for me to touch her. “I’m sorry. I’m not having a good day.”
She places her other hand on the button of my pants and undoes it along with the zipper. “I know what will make you feel better.” Alyssa drops to her knees and runs her hand over my soft cock. Seeing her like this isn’t even making me hard. Great, Viola has officially broken my dick. Alyssa notices I’m not hard then stands and crosses her arms over her tits. Concern flashes over her face.
“What happened?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. “Who should I tell Daddy to fire?”
I tilt my head and look at her for a split second, realizing she’s not as dumb as she pretends to be and maybe I’m the one being played all along. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? Usually, I know a mark when I see one, but somehow, I got it all wrong. Maybe I was her mark.
“I’m not having a good day. That’s it. I actually want to be alone. I’m sorry, baby. It’s not you. You know I think you’re gorgeous.” And she is a pretty girl. I’m not lying when I say that, but she’s not the pretty girl I want to fuck. I’ve been there and done that, and the allure of having her is gone. For a moment, my thoughts travel back to Viola in the mudroom, and I swallow hard, pushing those thoughts out of my head.